


Simplicity

by hajiimee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: @jess i REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, Cuddles, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Lazy Mornings, M/M, i just like to gush over both of them, like TOOTH ROTTING fluff, theyre so gay i love them a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajiimee/pseuds/hajiimee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you asked either of them who they thought was the most beautiful, they would answer without hesitation. Oikawa would say that he, himself, was the most beautiful, whilst Iwaizumi’s response would change every time, listing through all the people that Oikawa hated purely to get under his boyfriend’s skin. It wasn’t their words that answered, though – not really. It was their actions, the small little indications of where their affections lay, and the absentminded giveaways of how much they truly, truly thought the world of each other.</p><p>An intricate web of ghosted admissions of adoration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simplicity

**Author's Note:**

> For Jess @koutaurou for the hkqnet gift exchange! I'm sorry it's so short, but schoolwork really got me bogged down, hence why I'm posting this so close to the wire! I really hope you enjoy <33

There was beauty in the simplest of things.

There was beauty in the stubble on Iwaizumi’s jaw, short and prickly from a couple of days of not shaving, classes skewering his schedule, wearing him out and causing him to hit the snooze button on his phone one too many times. There was beauty in the way he could sleep through the third blast of Hanamaki and Matsukawa moaning in an obviously faux sexual, a great plan to record at the time, thinking that there was no way in the world anyone would be able to close their eyes again with _that_ encompassing their thoughts. Iwaizumi could, though, when he was tired enough, his slightly hairy chest rising and falling with gentle breaths, and thin lips just about parted, letting out small snores. There was beauty in the way the sheets were draped haphazardly around his hips, barely covering his left leg, leaving a stark line between the pale blue sheets and dark skin, spattered with darker hair, and accented with even darker boxers, the hem of which was bunched, having ridden up, and sitting just below the dip where thigh met pelvis.

There was beauty in the happy trail that dipped down below the sheets and into Calvin Kleins, and there was beauty in the crook to Iwaizumi’s nose, everlasting from a break as a child, the misshape able to be felt under wandering finger pads in the hum of morning, all sounds gentle and muffled. Iwaizumi’s nose twitched in response to the touch, and he turned his head away with a throaty noise of disapproval. He brought his arm up, nudging his nose against the side to brush away the tickle and itch, much like a dog. He took in a steep breath, the noise exiting his nose in a huffed attempt to dispel lure of wakefulness.

There was beauty in the simplest of things, but those small details created a complexity, all of them knitting together to form a single entity that was woven over and under, through and through, layer pressed against layer to create a depth that had yet to be fully explored. There was beauty in Iwaizumi Hajime, every aspect of him deserving of only the finest of adoration, and Oikawa Tooru was more than happy to give it to him. More than happy to slather him in kisses and touches and both small and grand gestures that spoke a million and one flattering words. Even if sometimes those ‘gestures’ involved a selfish want to see his boyfriend sleep clouded in the rouse of ‘You need the rest’. Oikawa reached over, half leaning over Iwaizumi and the fabric of his (Iwaizumi’s) t-shirt hanging low as he did so, trailing across the others stomach. It prompted a hand to reach out, fingers scratching at the spot where the material brushed.

Oikawa pressed down on the snooze button, the third time he did so, before settling back down against the mattress, laying on his side with his gaze on Iwaizumi’s body beside him. Brown eyes roamed over the contours of Iwaizumi’s face, and up to the mess that was his bedhead, spikes never deliberate in the morning, and standing up along his scalp in a multitude of bizarre directions, no one the same as another. He vaguely resembled an anime protagonist – all he needed was the bright hair. Oikawa thought maybe pink, and his lips twitched up at the corners. Nimble fingers sought out the tangled locks – a dark brown, but not as dark as the smatterings of hair elsewhere on Iwaizumi’s body. They ran through, getting caught in places and taking time to gently work out the knots. Iwaizumi grunted, rolling onto his side to face Oikawa, and cracking an eye open. His lips quirked into a smirk, and he let his eye slipped closed again, allowing for Oikawa’s ministrations to continue.

There was beauty in the simplest things.

There was beauty in the subtle furrow to Oikawa’s brows as his fingers worked through an especially troublesome tangle in Iwaizumi’s hair, lips _just about_ pursed so that it was barely noticeable. There was beauty in the way his knees were bent, not stretched out across the sheets, his pyjama bottoms risen at the hems to reveal two different halves of two different shins, the hair on them not as dark as Iwaizumi’s own, but seeming so in comparison with Oikawa’s pale skin. He’d attempted to wax them once, Iwaizumi leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and amused smirk on his lips. The whole ordeal had ended in utter failure, Oikawa sitting on the edge of the bath with his leg out in the oddest resemblance to Cinderella to ever exist. The ‘do it at home’ kit his boyfriend had purchased was cheap, and instead of removing the hair with the wax, the grease paper completely left the wax behind, leaving Iwaizumi to have wash it off with the shower head, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. It wasn’t a complete disaster, though, because after one too many squeaks of ‘Careful!’ from Oikawa, Iwaizumi had gotten the chance to turn the hose on the taller boys’ face.

There was beauty in the way that when Iwaizumi lazily put his hand out to rest on the back of Oikawa’s thigh, the boy easily followed his touch, allowing himself to be tugged closer, their bodies pressing together. There was beauty in the way that Oikawa tilted his head back to allow for kisses to his neck and jaw, all whilst keeping his focus on working his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair. In response, Iwaizumi smiled against Oikawa’s skin, nudging his nose just underneath the boys’ ear, forgoing the pleasantry of ‘good morning’, his actions more than succeeding in saying that for him.

“What time is it?”

“Third snooze out of five.”

Iwaizumi’s smile widened, teeth breaking free for their first sighting of the day, the morning air drying them in moments. He knew what those words meant – they meant that whilst it was past the time that he was meant to get up, it wasn’t so late that he couldn’t waste a _few_ more minutes in the company of his favourite person. Iwaizumi’s hand slipped from Oikawa’s thigh, curling around his waist and giving him a squeeze, finally prompting his boyfriend’s fingers to give up on their mission, dropping to Iwaizumi’s shoulder instead, warm palms resting nicely against bare skin.

There was beauty in the simplest of things, but those small details created a complexity, a patchwork of tiny aspects that alone meant absolutely nothing, but together created this astounding piece of artwork that blanketed over in the warmest way, each piece needing time and concentration to be fully comprehended. There was beauty in Oikawa Tooru, every flaw lined with diamonds, unable to be mined but still nestled there, making him as valuable as valuable got – priceless, someone that could not be traded for all the money in the world, too precious not to keep. And Iwaizumi Hajime was more than happy to keep him, treasuring him with joking jests that echoed with praise and admiration, and surprise gifts and outings that spoke all the words he couldn’t find to explain to Oikawa just _how much_ he loved him, and how much he’d fight for him.

Oikawa’s legs tangled with Iwaizumi’s, and his fingers slipped up from his shoulder once more, thumb moving to rub along the stubble speckling Iwaizumi’s jaw. Iwaizumi admired his boyfriend’s face in the meantime, his own thumb smoothing circles round and round on Oikawa’s hip, just under his shirt, savouring the feel of smooth skin under his touch. Oikawa breathed deep, letting it out slow, and Iwaizumi pinched his side, able to feel the exhale on his face.

“Your breath stinks,” He teased, voice still thick with residue sleep. In reply, Oikawa just let out a huff, jamming his thumb against Iwaizumi’s cheek, essentially squishing it, just in an unconventional way. Iwaizumi’s grin fought back, stretching wider and causing his cheek to bunch up between the corner of his mouth and his boyfriend’s thumb.

“You stink, just in general.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes in response to Oikawa’s retort, before lifting his arm, sniffing his armpit and grimacing.

“Shit, you’re right.” He said. In moments, the grimace fell from his lips, and he was moving, arm still risen as he moved his armpit towards Oikawa’s face. “Smell this, it’s awful.” Oikawa’s horrified expression only spurred Iwaizumi on, and he tried to get his armpit closer to Oikawa’s face, the boy, now beneath him, moving his head side to side on the pillow to dodge. His hands came up in defence, fingers on one wrapping around his bicep as best they could, whilst the others grabbed his forearm, trying to force his arm away, away, away.

Iwaizumi laughed as Oikawa let out a squeak, giving a more breathless version when his boyfriend actually went so far as to kick him, feet swinging back and forth. Oikawa himself was also laughing, eyes squeezed shut and cries of ‘You’re so gross!’ and ‘This is why you’ll never get a girlfriend!’ leaving his lips in a higher than normal pitch. The last one just made Iwaizumi laugh harder, finally relenting as he flopped onto his back, arm dropping down beside him, bent at the elbow so that his hand rested beside his head on the pillow. Oikawa rolled back onto his side so that he could face his boyfriend, pout thick and obvious this time, though it wobbled with the threat of a smile. He reached out, jabbing Iwaizumi’s stomach to punctuate his words.

“You are so gross.” It was a repeat of what he’d said just moments before, though it was easier to understand this time, laughter no longer interrupting him. Iwaizumi merely hummed in response, turning his head to the side and winking at his boyfriend, right arm moving up to brush some hair from Oikawa’s face, before he cupped the boys’ cheek, letting his thumb smooth over his cheekbone before letting it drop to his own face, dragging his fingers through his own hair. It was an easy job thanks to the work Oikawa had put in earlier to free him from his rats nest of bedhead.

“That says a lot about the shit you’re into then, huh?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Iwa-Chan.”

“You a beggar, then? I knew it, all those years you’ve been paying those girls to flaunt over you. Hanamaki was right.”

Oikawa’s pout turned genuine then, and his hand darted up to pinch Iwaizumi’s nostrils together, just causing the brunet’s grin to split even wider, almost reaching an impossible width.

“You’re mean to me, you know that?” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi took a deep breath, snaking his arm around his lover’s waist and pulling him down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before bringing his other arm around to join his first, securing Oikawa against his chest. Oikawa did nothing to protest, letting his cheeks squish against his boyfriends collarbone, their bodies flush and their legs ones again intertwining.

“I’m _great_ to you.”

There was beauty in the simplest of things.

There was beauty in the way that Oikawa merely huffed in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, just accepting the statement for what it is. There was beauty in the hum that left Iwaizumi’s throat afterwards, and there was beauty in the way that Oikawa snuggled closer at it, letting his eyes slip closed again. There was beauty in the way that Oikawa’s lashes rested against his cheeks, long and curling upwards at the end, everyone’s dream. There was beauty in how Iwaizumi’s rough thumb rubbed up and down Oikawa’s hip, a slow, repetitive pattern that had Oikawa’s lips easing into a smile.

If you asked either of them who they thought was the most beautiful, they would answer without hesitation. Oikawa would say that he, himself, was the most beautiful, whilst Iwaizumi’s response would change every time, listing through all the people that Oikawa hated purely to get under his boyfriend’s skin. It wasn’t their words that answered, though – not really. It was their actions, the small little indications of where their affections lay, and the absentminded giveaways of how much they truly, truly thought the world of each other. An intricate web of ghosted admissions of adoration, an example being how when the alarm on Iwaizumi’s phone went off once again, Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s moans filtering through the room and disturbing the hush that had settled, it was Iwaizumi himself who hit the snooze, tugging the covers over the both of them and cuddling back up to Oikawa once more.

There was beauty in the simplest of things.

“Four out of five.”

But nothing was ever really simple.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you guys come talk to me about iwaoi on tumblr @hajiimee (or give me headcanons and prompts for writing) i will love you forever


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